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Updated: May 29, 2025
"I want to tell you the boy is all right," Abe replied. The colour surged to Max's face and he leaped wildly from the automobile. "What d'ye mean, all right?" he gasped. "I mean all right in every way, Max," Abe answered; "and if you would step into Hammersmith's for a minute I'll tell you all about it." "Where is he?" Max cried. Abe led the way to a table.
"What are you talking nonsense, Mawruss?" Abe said. "Things wouldn't turned out the way they did if it wouldn't be I met Max Gershon in Hammersmith's. That's what started it, Mawruss." "Nothing of the kind, Abe," Morris retorted. "What started it, Abe, was me when I went down to Madison Street and give Uncle Mosha that cigar, Abe.
Ten days afterward Abe and Morris sat in the showroom. "Ain't it terrible a strong, healthy young feller should go off like that?" Abe Potash remarked, as he and his partner sat in their showroom one spring morning. "I give you my word I was sitting over in Hammersmith's so close to him as I am to you, Mawruss, when it happened." "Was there much excitement?" Morris asked.
"The deepest fellow I know," grumbled the baffled coroner into Hammersmith's ear, as the latter stepped his way, "or just the most simple." Then added aloud: "Lift up my coat there, please." Hammersmith did so.
"I ain't said it ain't good, Abe," Morris protested; "only I seen Markson, which he works for Klinger & Klein as a bookkeeper, in Hammersmith's to-day and he says that Moe Griesman goes round trying to buy up all Sam Green's bills payable; and he's got about five hundred dollars' worth now already." "Sure, I know he did," Abe replied.
I thought you was in one of them now sanatoriums." "A sanatorium is no place for a drummer to find a job, Abe," Max replied. "A good salesman like you could find a job anywhere without much trouble, Max," Abe said cheerfully. "That's what everybody says, Abe; meantime I'm loafing." "It wouldn't be for long, Max," Abe rejoined as he cast a hungry eye over Hammersmith's bill of fare.
"Well, don't get mad about it, Potash," Kleebaum said. "Me, I don't get mad so easy," Abe declared. "Wouldn't you come downstairs to Hammersmith's and take a cup coffee or something?" Together they descended to the sidewalk where they were saluted by a tremendous chugging from the Pfingst roadster.
Madge Dunbar was a second cousin, and the widow of Captain Dunbar of Hammersmith's Horse, who was killed at Paardeberg. She was left with no children, a very small income, and a number of relatives occupying excellent stations in life. With one or other of these she generally stayed, but latterly had shown a decided preference for the hospitality of Mr. Walkingshaw.
I bet you he rings in a whole lot of items on me with the petty cash while I was away on the road." Together they left Hammersmith's and repaired at once to Potash & Perlmutter's place of business. As they entered the show-room Miss Cohen emerged from her office with a sheet of paper in her hand. "Mr.
Max rose to his feet and extended his right hand in greeting, whereat Morris noted that the four-carat diamond still sparkled on Max's finger. "I just left your partner over at Hammersmith's, Morris," Max said. "Sure, I know," Morris rejoined; "that feller makes a god out of his stomach, Max; but that ain't here nor there. Did you got something to do yet, Max?"
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